


Haro, Haro, Haro! (Don't Call it a Breakout)

by thebeehive



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Prison, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, Gang Violence, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Island Prison, LOTS of violence, M/M, Prison Violence, Rimming, Sark Island, Smut, Tasering, secret keeping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2020-09-26 19:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20394838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeehive/pseuds/thebeehive
Summary: Liam watched in stony silence as the prison guard slid open the heavy metal door of his cell.“And here’s your home for the next, oh, I don’t know. At least ten fucking years.” The guard laughed as he unlocked the cuffs from Liam’s wrists and shoved him, none too gently, inside the tiny cell. “Say hello to your new friend.”“Friend? No, no - there’s been a mistake. I was supposed to room by meself-” Liam protested.The guard just laughed as he slid and locked the door behind him. Liam turned back to see that his new cell mate, a man of average height and long dark hair, had his back to him. He was actually taking a piss in the metal toilet in the corner of the cell.The cell mate finished his business and turned around. The first thing Liam noticed were his wide dark eyes. The second thing was the red wolf head tattooed right at the base of his throat; the collar of the hideous yellow jumpsuit he wore framed the tattoo perfectly.“No, no - fuck this. No - I can’t room with him!” Liam turned but the guard was long gone. Oh fuck, he thought.(Or, Liam and Zayn are in rival gangs and are put together in the same cell on an island prison).





	1. La Prison du Moulin

**Author's Note:**

> I quit one of my jobs last week. (Those who know me know I work all the time and I finally decided to cut back a little bit). So what better way to celebrate than to write a gang/prison AU?? 
> 
> I chose the island of Sark because of its location, geography, and history. It has a fascinating history. Which I then completely mangled for the sake of this fic. :) 
> 
> If any of the languages in the fic are used incorrectly here, please let me know so I can fix!
> 
> Also: Please mind the tags!

Liam watched in stony silence as the prison guard slid open the heavy metal door of his cell.

“And here’s your home for the next, oh, I don’t know. At least ten fucking years.” The guard laughed as he unlocked the cuffs from Liam’s wrists and shoved him, none too gently, inside the tiny cell. “Say hello to your new friend.”

“Friend? No, no - there’s been a mistake. I was supposed to room by meself-” Liam protested.

The guard laughed as he slid and locked the door behind him. Liam turned back to see that his new cell mate, a man of average height and long dark hair, had his back to him. He was actually taking a piss in the metal toilet in the corner of the cell. And Liam realized he could kiss any and all privacy goodbye.

The cell mate finished his business and turned around. The first thing Liam noticed were his wide dark eyes. The second thing was the red wolf head tattooed right at the base of his throat; the collar of the hideous yellow jumpsuit he wore framed the tattoo perfectly. 

“No, no - fuck this. No - I can’t room with him!” Liam turned but the guard was long gone. Oh fuck, he thought. He turned back. The man with the wolf tattoo gave him a grin. 

“Hi, I’m Zayn.” He stepped closer until he stood right in front of Liam. He tilted his head, studying Liam’s neck tattoo. “Vi Mortiferum.” His voice was soft. “Daybreak huh?” He laughed, but he wasn’t smiling. “And to think they thought we should room together.”

“They probably did it on purpose.” Liam tried not to shiver as Zayn reached forward and traced the black cursive writing with a gentle finger. He stood his ground, fists clenched, struggling not to punch the man in his, admittedly handsome face. It would be a shame to break that nose, but Liam didn’t want to be put in solitary his first day in. 

“Vi Mortiferum,” the man repeated. “Deadly force, huh?” He stepped back, looking Liam up and down. “What’s your name?”

“Liam.”

“Well, Liam. We both know that, despite all your muscles, Daybreak is a bunch of bloody idiots. So don’t fuck with me, ok? Don’t talk to me. Don’t fucking look at me. And if you do all that, I’ll do my best not to kill you in your sleep.” He smirked and stepped back.

Liam stepped forward. “How about this - you don’t fuck with me. You Lupus Ruber fucks are all the same - think you’re so clever. What gang picks a Latin name? A bunch of pretentious fucks, that’s who. But when it comes down to it, you can’t outfight us. So. Don’t. Fuck. With. Me.”

Zayn laughed. For real this time. He had a nice smile. But it was also predatory - like a wolf.  
“Oh Liam. You’re a funny, funny bloke. But nice try.” 

And with that he punched Liam right in the face. He had a mean right hook. Liam was so startled, the hit so unexpected and powerful, that he stumbled, off balance, his back meeting the iron bars of the cell door. But it only took a moment to regain his footing - he had been trained as an amateur boxer since he was 12, and he wasn’t going to let some fucking lightweight member of Lupus Ruber take him down. 

He leaned against the cell door for a moment so he could study Zayn, who, to Liam’s surprise, was in a proper boxer’s stance, feet shoulder length apart, weight shifting, arms held up, hands in fists. The yellow jumpsuit hung loose on him, but it was hard to gauge his strength. He looked wirey, Liam thought. 

“C’mon, c’mon,” Zayn taunted, fists coming up. “See what you got, Daybreaker. Big tough guy like you. You can probably brawl, but can you actually fight?”

“You have no idea,” Liam growled. 

He used the cell bars at his back to propel himself forward, and he threw his left fist up, connecting with Zayn’s cheek before he could duck. 

Zayn fell back and Liam used his natural quickness to land another punch, this one under Zayn’s jaw. This time he fell to his knees, and Liam paused. It was a mistake. Before he could register movement, Zayn sprang up and hit him with bruising force in the left eye; white stars burst across his vision and pain radiated out from his eye socket; his arms came up, too late, to try and block the punches that rained down across his face. 

Liam groaned, then ducked, and without thinking, hunched over and ran full tilt at Zayn, grabbing him around the waist and taking him down to the ground.

“Get the fuck off me!” 

Zayn was like a slippery eel, and Liam struggled to lock him down. Out of his one good eye, he saw him stop fighting and hold still. He didn’t relax this time, but held Zayn tighter and used his legs to firmly squeeze Zayn’s own legs so he couldn’t kick up or move. 

Zayn looked at him; they were both breathing heavy, chests heaving, and Liam could feel the warmth of the body beneath him. Up close, Zayn’s wide dark eyes that first caught his attention were hazel flecked with gold and green, with the prettiest dark lashes he had ever seen. Then Zayn lifted his head and licked Liam. Right across his lips. 

“What the fuck-” he sputtered.

Zayn twisted beneath him and rolled over, until he was on top. He tried to pin Liam’s wrists above his head, but he wasn’t strong enough. Liam looked up with satisfaction at Zayn’s features, twisted in frustration, as he tried in vain to keep Liam’s wrists on the ground. Liam easily overpowered him, and was about to roll them over so HE would be on top again, when Zayn was ripped out of his grasp. 

“You fucking pieces of garbage,” the guard hissed. The cell was suddenly full of guards, and Liam was pulled to his feet so quickly he thought his shoulder would dislocate.

“Let me at ‘em,” Zayn yelled, trying to free himself from the two guards holding him back. He tried to kick one of the guards, and was abruptly tazed. His body shook, then went limp, dark head hanging down.

Liam winced in sympathy and decided not to fight back if that would be the result. 

“Take them both to Med Bay. Bunch of fucking knobs”

And with that decree, Liam was uncermoniously dragged out of his cell, down the hall, and then several flights of stairs. Zayn, hardly conscious, was right behind him, held up by two guards as his feet dragged on the ground.

Med Bay turned out to be a single room painted stark white with one medical bed in the middle. 

“Where’s the fucking Irish doctor idiot?” one of the guards looked around the empty room, and sat Liam down in the nearest metal chair, which was bolted to the ground and not the least bit comfortable. He was handcuffed to the chair by both his wrist and one of his ankles. Now that the adrenaline from the fight had worn off, the pain in his eye was excruciating, and the rest of him felt pretty shitty, too. 

“I’ll go find him” A guard left the room, and the guards holding Zayn lifted him up and put him on the medical bed, and then handcuffed him to the metal rails on either side of the bed. 

Another guard came over and looked at Zayn’s limp form. “How the fuck was his hair allowed to grow that long? Cut it off right now.” 

“Not. Don’t fucking touch. My hair.” Zayn’s voice was weak, and he drooled a bit, but he tried to sit up. One of the guards easily pushed him back down. Another guard searched through the cabinets lining the room until they found what they were looking for and held up a pair of electric clippers. 

“Hold him.” The guard commanded. 

Liam watched as one guard held down Zayn as he fruitlessly tried to pull against the handcuffs, while another guard roughly grabbed his head and held it still so the third guard could buzz off all his hair. Zayn stopped struggling once the clippers made their first contact, and looked furious but resigned.

Liam couldn’t help but feel a little bit bad. Zayn might be a rival gang member, and the Daybreakers might hate Lupus Ruber with a long-standing, bloody passion that played out across the less savory streets of London, but to see someone’s autonomy taken away so completely, to be dehumanized to such a degree, was hard to watch. He had never been in prison before and he wished, after his hopefully very short time he would have to spend here, that he never would have to return. 

The job was done and the guards left the room, leaving one to stand watch outside the open door. Liam looked at Zayn, who lay flat on his back on the bed, face turned to the side, glaring openly at Liam. And with his hair gone, his dark eyes looked even bigger in his face, his bone structure even more striking. Liam realized he was staring, but Zayn was really, really attractive. What a waste, he thought, for that face to be put on a Lupus member; the universe didn’t play fair.

Zayn had stopped drooling, and looked like he was regaining his faculties. He raised a thick eyebrow at Liam. “So, Daybreaker, what you in here for anyway?”

Liam paused. He wasn’t sure what he should say. But then he figured, in the prison, what did it matter. If Zayn ever got out he could look up Liam’s crime anyway. “I robbed a bank.”

“Really?” Zayn looked surprised. “Daybreakers running low on funds then? Resorting to petty theft?” 

“I wouldn’t call HSBC headquarters petty theft, really.” A new man entered the room, accent definitely Irish and wearing blue scrubs. This must be the doctor then.

“That was you?” Zayn turned from Liam to look at the doctor, then back to Liam. He snorted. “Would have been impressive if you’d gotten away with it. But here you are.”

“I don’t see you lookin’ a free man,” Liam sneered. “What you in here for?”

“Arson.” Zayn didn’t seem bothered by it. 

“And how do you know what I’m in here for?” Liam looked at the doctor. He looked young, about Liam and Zayn’s age, and had bright blue eyes. 

“Well, first of all, I’m Doctor Horan, but you can call me Niall, and I make it my business to know everything.” He walked over to the bed, and grasped Zayn’s head, much more gently then the guard had, turning his head and looking at the bruising across his jaw. “And everyone knew you were coming today. Talk of the town, you were.” Then he noticed the pieces of hair, all over the bed and floor, and shook his head. “Thanks for cleaning up the mess.” 

The guard standing in the doorway shrugged. Niall shook his head again, and looked back down at Zayn. “You were tasered, right?” he said briskly. 

Zayn nodded affirmation. 

“Ok, got to listen to your heart then.” He unwound the stethoscope he wore around his neck, and reached down Zayn’s jumpsuit to listen to his heart; Liam got a glimpse of black wings inked across his collarbone, and wondered what other tattoos the Lupus member had under his jumpsuit. He watched Zayn’s chest rise and fall as he took deep breaths. 

“Ok, everything sounds good, I’ll get you an ice pack for your jaw. And you.” Niall turned to Liam. “You need an ice pack for that eye. Must have been quite some punch.”

“Super lightweight champion three years in a row at Ripper’s Club.” Zayn still sounded weak, but smug.

Liam rolled his eyes. He would have pegged Zayn for a lightweight, but the man must be made of nothing but lean muscle and bone, and was heavier than he looked. “Whatever, mate. I was light heavyweight champion at Repton.”

“Ok, but how many years running?”

Liam didn’t answer, instead he waved off Niall holding the ice pack to him. “I don’t need any ice.”

“Yes you do. Here.” Niall’s tone brokered no argument as he shoved an ice-pack at Liam, who put his head down, hampered by the handcuffs keeping him tethered to the chair, and reluctantly put it against his eye, hissing as the cold pack touched his swollen eye.

Niall then handed an ice pack to Zayn, but he couldn’t reach with the way his hands were cuffed against the rails, so Niall awkwardly rested it against his jaw.

“Ok, boys. My work here is done. Try not to kill each other anytime soon, ok? Liam, welcome to the grand La Prison du Moulin, I hope you enjoy your stay. Zayn, you should show him the ropes, so to speak.” Niall chuckled to himself. “The ropes, haha. Like, a boxing ring, you know?”

He left the room, and Liam made eye contact with Zayn. They both rolled their eyes at the doctor’s weak attempt at a joke. Then Liam remembered who Zayn was and everything he and his gang stood for. He looked away. 

“I told you not to fuck with me.”

Liam scoffed. “And who got tazed?”

“Fuck you. And they cut off my hair. You’ll pay for that.”

“Yeah, well fuck you, too.” Liam had only been in prison an hour. It was shaping up to be the worst decision he had ever made.


	2. Making Wine, Doing Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have more free time than usual this upcoming week (usually i have zero free time lol) so I'm going to try and update as much as I can, while I can. Hope everyone enjoys!!

The first night in the prison Liam couldn’t fall asleep. The canary yellow regulation jumpsuits the prisoners were required to wear during the day were replaced with canary yellow pajama pants and a pajama top that were starched stiff, causing him to itch all over. 

Zayn had taken the bottom bunk. Liam wanted to put up a fight, but remembering that he’d been tasered earlier that day, he decided to let Zayn win that small battle. When they were changing for bed, Liam tried to sneak a glance at Zayn’s tattoos. He was literally covered head to toe, and Liam was trying to decipher his large back piece when Zayn turned around, catching him in the act, as he finished pulling down his shirt.

“Like what you see, Daybreaker?” Zayn smirked. 

“M’ names Liam, you idiot. And no, no I don’t.” 

Zayn shrugged. “Fine, Leeyum.”

Liam narrowed his eyes at the way Zayn mockingly stretched out his name. He tried to quickly change his own clothes, but under Zayn’s watchful eyes he felt exposed. Zayn, on the other hand, didn’t so much as turn away or blink as Liam undressed.

“Nice muscles there. Too bad you don’t have any brains to match.”

Liam finished dressing. “That’s the best you got? Supposed to be the pinnacle of wit or summat?”

Zayn smirked again. “Oh, I have many talents. Wit happens to be one of them.”

“That so.” Liam stepped forward until he was in Zayn’s space. He felt his heart speed up and his adrenaline kick in. He was itching for… not another fight exactly. But something.

But Zayn turned and laid down on the bottom bunk. “I don’t plan on getting tazed again, so why don’t you calm the fuck down and go to bed, yeah?”

“Whatever.” Liam, took a deep breath, tried to slow his racing heart, and awkwardly climbed up to the top bunk and settled down on the very, very thin mattress. He closed his eyes, his one eye still unbearably tender and sore, but sleep didn’t come; instead, he thought about Louis.

He remembered a time when they were children, around eight years old, in the orphanage together. Louis was smaller than himself, but so tough. Liam had an older group of boys that constantly picked on him. Usually they shoved him around, but sometimes they got too rough, and he would show up for check in with a bloody nose or cut lip, and receive punishment for fighting. Louis picked up on all this, and despite his small stature, one day he threatened the older boys, who laughed in his face and continued to shove Liam against a brick wall. While Liam appreciated the effort, he really did, he didn’t want any harm to come to anybody else simply for sticking up for him. 

He needn’t have worried. Louis returned, the next time they were shoving Liam into the ground, and threw two flaming bottles, homemade molotov cocktails, at two of the boys. Liam would never forget the screams of terror as the boys threw themselves to the ground while their friends tried to help put out the flames licking along their backs. The boys were fine, other than some nasty permanent scarring, and Liam was never picked on at the orphanage again. 

Louis, subsequently, instantly developed a reputation of unhinged insanity, and no one messed with him. He became Liam’s first friend, and over the years they were practically brothers in everything but blood, which changed when they both left the orphanage at 16 and pledged themselves to the Daybreaker Boys gang - swearing a blood oath to the gang and their fellow brothers-in-arms. 

And now Louis was in trouble, and Liam had volunteered to rescue him. He couldn’t imagine life without Louis. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into Louis, was Liam’s last thought before he finally fell into a restless sleep. 

The next day, Liam was woken by ice cold water splashing on his face. 

“What the -” he sat up to see Zayn, smirk in full force, watching him from the side of the bunk bed. He had a paper cup in hand.

Liam wiped his face off, and then winced when he gently felt the skin around his left eye - it was no longer swollen shut, the ice pack had done its work, but the skin was tender to the touch and he was sure the bruising would be spectacular. He looked suspiciously at the metal toilet and sink in the corner. “That water better have been from the sink or you’re a dead man walking.”

“Maybe. You’ll never know, will ya?” Zayn put down the cup. His own face was starting to bruise along his jaw, and across his sharp cheekbones. “Now hurry up. We eat breakfast in the cell then get our assignments.”

“Assignments?”

“What, you think we hang out here - relax, like a fucking holiday?” Zayn shook his head. “Don’t be more stupid than you have to be, Leeyum.” And with that, Zayn turned around and started dressing, and Liam forced himself not to watch. 

An hour later Liam really, really began to regret his decision to come to La Prison du Moulin. It was a beautiful day, the kind of day where the sky was pale blue and the only clouds in the sky were fleecy and far, far away from the ground. He was outside breathing in the fresh, clean air, surrounded by endless fields of grapes on an island that should be filled with tourists taking a day trip, not prisoners being used for free labor. And he was bent over wearing a stupid fucking yellow jumpsuit, back stiffening up, picking grape after grape after fucking grape and putting them in a large basket. Zayn was by his side, assigned to train him. 

“They’re fucking with us,” Zayn explained. “Your cell mate shouldn’t be the one training you, they want us to kill each other.” 

He didn’t need to explain to Liam that “they” referred to the prison guards, the warden, and anyone with an ounce of power over themselves. 

“They might get their wish,” Liam muttered darkly, staring at the red wolf tattoo again as the bright midday sun shone down on his back. Zayn’s elegant neck was covered in tattoos, but the red wolf drew him in. And why the fuck was he thinking of his cell mate’s throat as elegant? 

“How long have you been here anyway?”

Zayn squinted in the glare of the sun. “Two weeks.”

“You’ve only been here two weeks and they’re letting you train me?” 

“I told you, but you don’t fucking listen - they’re fucking with us. They want us to kill each other.”

Liam knew Zayn was probably right, but he certainly wasn’t going to say so out loud. He turned back to the grapes and continued plucking them off the tangled vines. A grape bounced off his forehead. Liam ignored it. Another one hit him in the eye. His eye that Zayn had punched only the previous day. “Fucking cut it out, you bloody cunt.” 

Zayn giggled, honest to god giggled. Liam stared at him. With his buzzed head and tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth he looked the picture of mischief and Liam had a sudden urge to shove him. So he did. Zayn toppled over, as he’d been resting on his heels over the vines. 

“Fucking Daybreaker!” Zayn yelped. 

Liam started to laugh when he felt something cold and metallic touch the back of his neck.

“Touch him again and you’ll get tazed, do you understand?”

Liam couldn’t see the guard, but he dared not disagree. He looked at Zayn, who lay on the ground but was watching the proceedings with a tense look on his face. “Understood.”

“No touching!” The guard removed the taser from the side of his neck and continued walking down the long row of grapes. 

“Look what you fucking did.” Liam was pissed, and turned back to start picking grapes again. His second day in prison; he’d already been in one fight, and now he was on the guard’s shit list. All because of this fucking Lupus member. 

“Me?” Zayn sounded incredulous. “You shoved me!”

“You threw grapes at me!” The minute the words left his mouth Liam realized how weak that sounded, but it was too late to take it back.

“If all it takes to get you riled up is a few grapes, you’re not going to last long at Moulin, Leeyum.”

Liam ignored him and continued to pick grapes. He had one mission, and he needed to stay focused - he couldn’t let anything distract him. Where the fuck are you, Louis, he wondered. 

He didn’t see Louis until his third week at Moulin. The weeks were spent picking grapes, which Zayn explained was considered the shittiest assignment. The lucky ones, he said, were the prisoners who crushed the grapes because it was kind of fun, and even the job of pouring the crushed grapes into the barrels, and then tending to the barrels, wasn’t too bad. Bottling the wine was boring, but at least it was inside out of the hot sun, and one didn’t have to bend over and slowly ruin their back muscles.

Zayn continued to pick on him, but if Liam didn’t know any better, it almost seemed like flirting. Or maybe that was projection on his part. Well, maybe flirting wasn’t the right word, it seemed a little too aggressive. Every morning he woke Liam up by splashing him in the face with water. He threw grapes at him. One time he tripped him right when Liam was carrying a very full, heavy basket of grapes. The grapes went everywhere and a guard yelled at Liam for his carelessness. Zayn laughed and watched him carefully, waiting for Liam to explode on him. But Liam was the king of self control. It would take a lot to break him. Or, so he told himself. It seemed with Zayn his fuse ran shorter than normal. 

He saw his cell mate way too much for comfort - they spent the hot days next to each in the field picking grapes, they sat next to each other at dinner in the dining hall every night (Liam had no idea why - the first night Zayn had sat next to him and Liam didn’t protest, and from then on it was their routine), and at night he tried in vain to ignore the noises Zayn made from his bottom bunk. To be fair, Zayn usually spent his time reading or writing, so the only noises he really made were the turning of a page, or the scratch of his pen on a piece of paper, but every noise settled between Liam’s shoulder blades, like an itch he couldn’t reach to scratch. 

Liam and Zayn were finished for the day in the field and were headed inside for dinner in the dining hall, shuffling along in a long line of prisoners, flanked by guards. Zayn was behind him, and kept trying to surreptitiously poke him in the back, right between his shoulder blades. The prisoners ate in shifts, so Liam ate with the same small group of prisoners every day, Zayn always by his side. He had not seen Louis among them.

Zayn started poking lower and lower down his back. And then he smacked his butt. Liam turned around and shoved him, pushing Zayn back into the prisoner in line behind him. Who, unfortunately but accurately was known as Hank the Tank.

“What the fuck - “ Hank raised his fist and Zayn twisted and ducked, so Hank’s fist glanced off Liam’s shoulder, but it was enough to send him reeling back into the prisoner who had been walking in front of Liam, a squirrely man named Randall, causing him to stumble.

“You fucking moron!” Randall yelled, and turned and pushed Liam forward, right as Hank shoved Zayn - the two collided and, limbs tangled and heads painfully knocking together, fell to the ground in a heap. Liam heard yelling and loud footsteps, and then felt the familiar cold metal at the back of his neck. An explosive shock ran down his spine as every muscle and nerve in his body convulsed. His bones seemed to separate from his nervous system, and then he felt limp with relief as the horrible shock subsided and left his body. 

He lay on the ground, light aftershocks tingling through his legs. He opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them. Zayn’s wide eyes were right in front of his, filled with unshed tears. He was drooling again; he must have been tased as well.

“You two!” Liam heard one of the guards yell. “Help take these two fuckers to Med Bay.”

Liam felt himself lifted up off the ground. He turned; there was a guard on one side, supporting him, and on the other was a prisoner he had never seen before. He was tall, with curly hair, too long for regulation, and big green eyes. In front of him, he saw a guard pick up Zayn, and then another prisoner stepped forward to help carry him. It was Louis. His hair was the shortest Liam had ever seen it, and his piercing blue eyes looked sunken in and dull, but he would recognize Louis anywhere. 

“Arrgggh.” Liam slurred out. 

Louis looked at directly at him, but didn’t acknowledge that he recognized him in any way.

“Shut the fuck up.” The guard carrying him shook him and Liam felt his head fall forward. It was too heavy to lift back up, so he spent the rest of the trip staring at the ground while his mind raced ahead of himself. He had found Louis. And now to wait for the second part of the plan. 

This time when they reached Med Bay, the guards, along with Louis and the unnamed prisoner, deposited both of them on the single medical bed, then handcuffed them by their wrists and ankles to the bed.

“Since you two can’t keep your hands off each other, feel free to tear each other apart. Or fuck each other. I don’t care. The doctor will be here to make sure your fucking hearts are still beating properly.” The guard who had carried Liam finished cuffing him, and then everyone left the room, Louis not even giving a backwards glance, leaving Zayn pressed against him, chest to chest, while their hands were pulled behind their backs, the chain of the cuffs looped through the metal handrails on the bed. Liam’s left arm was already falling asleep under his body and his shoulder ached - he couldn’t wait for the pins and needles to come. 

Zayn blinked. “Got some drool, Leeyum.” His voice was slurred and raspy, but his lips wore a shadow of the familiar smirk he always had around Liam. 

Liam tried to wipe his mouth against the flat pillow he currently shared with Zayn. He gave up and stared into Zayn’s eyes. Zayn stared back.

“Doctor better be here soon,” Liam grumbled. He couldn’t move. The only way he could avoid Zayn’s intense gaze was if he closed his eyes, and he certainly wasn’t going to take the coward’s way out. However, all the direct eye contact was unnerving. 

“What’s wrong, Daybreaker, never shared a bed with another man before?” 

Liam blinked. He opened his mouth and then closed it. “I don’t see how that’s your fucking business.”

Zayn raised an eyebrow. “So you have. Interesting.”

Liam glared.

“In fact, with those muscles and your sad eyes, bet you’re quite popular. I wonder,” and here Zayn quirked an eyebrow. “Do the Daybreakers pass you around for when they need a release, hmm?”

Liam tried to kick Zayn, but his ankles were also cuffed to the railing, and he could barely move his legs. He managed to nudge him in the shins. And what the fuck did he mean by sad eyes?

“You’re one to talk. So pretty that I bet every Lupus fucker has a go with you.”

His insult didn’t have the desired effect.

“So you think I’m pretty then?” Zayn drawled. 

Liam couldn’t look away. Like, he literally couldn’t look away. He tried to kick Zayn again and only managed to bump their knees together. “You know you’re pretty, you vain fuck. What the fuck do you mean I have sad eyes?”

Zayn opened his mouth, but was interrupted by the doctor entering the room.

“You two idiots again?” Niall sighed, and then entered Liam’s line of vision, staring down disapprovingly at both him and Zayn, trapped in the bed as they were. “And I heard you both got tasered? Ok, Zayn, you first. Deep breaths, yeah?”

Liam and Zayn didn’t break eye contact as Niall pushed the stethoscope down the front of Zayn’s jumpsuit. Zayn’s chest rose and fell. Liam watched the red wolf tattoo and felt his self control slipping. 

He was letting Zayn get under his skin. He was here for his mission. And his mission was Louis. And it didn’t matter how pretty Zayn was - he was a member of Lupus Ruber and therefore off limits for the rest of Liam’s natural born life. 

“Ok, your turn.” The stethoscope wasn’t as cold as Liam had anticipated; he wondered if Zayn’s skin had warmed it up first. He tried not to blush at the thought. And then he realized how ridiculous the situation he found himself in was - chained to a bed in a prison Med Bay, stuck on an island, and fighting a growing attraction to his incorrigible cell mate who happened to be a member of the Daybreakers' most sworn enemy. 

“Ok, you’re still both fucking idiots, but you’re fine, you can take them back to their cell.” Niall gestured to the guard standing watch. “And boys, don’t let there be a next time, yeah? Try and keep your hands off each other.”

Later that night, Liam lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling. As it was concrete painted white, there wasn’t a lot to stare at. He was going over the plan in his head, the plan that Jonas had drilled him on until he had been able to recite it in his sleep. 

“Ok, now look at this.” He was in the Daybreakers' meeting room, watching Jonas as he pointed at a large map stretched out across the conference table. The map was of Sark island. 

“Le Prison du Moulin was built ten years ago, after the Barclay brothers basically destroyed the island’s tourism economy by shutting down the vineyard and hotels and shops they owned to try and force the long time residents off the island, so they could have it all to themselves. But they needed to make money somehow, so that’s why they built a privatized prison, and the prisoners are forced to work in the fields and produce the wine the prison is famous for. A lot of the local residents who refused to leave had no choice but to become employees of the prison in order to make money and stay in their homes on the island.” Jonas shook his head in disgust, then continued.

“The prison was built right between the observatory tower and the old mill.” Jonas pointed to the map, and Liam leaned forward. The mill, as he knew was very old, having been built in the 1500s, on the part of the island known as Greater Sark, which was connected to the smaller part of the island, Little Sark, by a 300 foot long isthmus known as La Coupee. 

“Now, the mill is locked up, so you’ll have to break a window to get in, ok?”

“Got it.” Liam took a deep breath and looked at the map again. He only hoped he could get off the island once he got on.

“You ready to rob HSBC?” Jonas looked at him in concern. Since Louis had been locked up, Jonas was his closest friend, his rock, in the Daybreakers. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”


	3. A Business Arrangement is Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I was going to have extra time to update, thought wrong. But now I have time! Have an update! Thank you SO much as always for the comments, kudos, and feedback. I feel like this is a fun (albeit sexy??) chapter, and I hope you all agree! :)

“Will you fucking stop that?” 

Liam ignored Zayn, and continued doing push-ups on the floor of their shared cell. 

Down, up, down and up. Repeat and then repeat again. He felt the strain in his arms every time he pushed himself off the floor, and he had broken out into a light sweat, but he kept going, almost manic with it, getting lost in the mindless rhythm. Liam didn't do well in confined spaces, he was too restless, and a jail cell was about as confined as one could get. Their small, concrete room was painted stark white, and only contained the metal toilet and sink, their shared metal bunk bed, a single desk, and one rickety bureau with the top drawer permanently stuck. He hated all of it, of course, and longed for his room, and especially his bed, back in the London flat he shared with Jonas and Louis.

“Liam. Daybreaker fucker. Are you listening to me?”

It was their designated 'quiet-hour,' right before lights out, and while most inmates spent the time reading, writing, or some such, Liam couldn’t shut his brain off and had resorted to going through his entire routine of calisthenics, shirtless, wearing only his sleep pants. Despite spending all day in the warm sun picking grapes, his mind and body were so keyed up that he had jumped down from the top bunk and thrown himself into sit-ups and push-ups, much to the annoyance of Zayn. The two men had been lying on their respective bunks in silence, Zayn reading and Liam pretending to read, for the past hour. But Liam knew that if he didn’t thoroughly wear himself out to the point of physical exhaustion, any forthcoming sleep would be elusive. It had been two days since he had encountered Louis, and hadn’t seen him since. It drove him crazy; he had to get out of the fucking prison and off the fucking island before the prison, and especially Zayn, drove him to do something he knew he would regret. 

Liam was mid push-up when he felt pressure on his back, his elbows gave out, and he fell to the ground with a loud grunt, the impact rattling his bones. Zayn had used his foot to step on the middle of his back, pushing him down. He lay on the ground, gritting his teeth. He did NOT want to get tasered again. 

“Get your foot off me, Zayn, or I swear.”

“Swear? Oi, I’m shaking in my metaphorical boots if you’re gonna swear.”

“Zayn. Get the fuck off.”

“Nah, mate, think me and me foot is comfortable right here.”

Liam twisted his torso to flip over onto his back and reached out and grabbed Zayn’s bony ankle and yanked as hard as he could, but that didn’t turn out how he anticipated; instead, Zayn, caught off balance, fell forward and landed right on Liam’s stomach and literally knocked the breath out of him. 

“Jesus,” he wheezed, unable to move as he gasped for air. 

Zayn made no effort to move off of him, instead he re-positioned his body so his legs straddled Liam’s waist, and he leaned forward and grabbed his wrists, pulling them above his head, same as the first day they met and got into their first fight. Liam, still gasping, didn’t so much as struggle, too busy trying to pull air back into his diaphragm.

He finally was able to take several deep, rattling breaths, and no longer felt like he was dying. He was about to raise his arms, shake loose Zayn’s iron grip on his wrists, and then push him off, but then Zayn slowly leaned forward, eyes full of intent. 

Liam thought for a brief, suspended moment in time that Zayn was going to kiss him, but instead he bypassed his mouth entirely, and licked a long, wet stripe right over the Vi Mortiferum tattoo inked across the side of his neck. Liam thought he’d gotten his breath back, but feeling Zayn’s wet, warm tongue glide against the side of his neck caused him to gasp again.

“What the fuck-”

Zayn cut him off, whispering in his ear, voice raspy and breath warm. “How long have you been here now, about three weeks yeah?”

“Um.” Liam wasn’t expecting that question. “Abouts yeah. What’s it matter?”

Zayn ignored him. He leaned forward and licked along the tattoo again, slower, and then did it again. Then he lightly blew across where he had just licked. The feeling of his warm breath on damp skin caused Liam to shift his hips and bite down on his lip. Zayn leaned back and smirked.

“So when was the last time you got off?”

Liam swallowed hard, but he didn’t move. The cool concrete almost felt good on his sweaty back. “What?”

Zayn leaned back down, and licked the other side of his neck. There was no ink on that side, but Liam still shivered. 

“You heard me.” Zayn was speaking into his other ear now. “When was the last time you had a good wank? Like, busted a nut.”

Liam made a face. “Seriously? You’ve been here longer than me. When was the last time you got off?”

Zayn leaned back again, but this time he stayed close enough to Liam’s face that he could see a freckle in his left eye (so he DID have a physical imperfection, Liam thought) and practically count the thick lashes framing his eyes. 

“I was getting off just fine every night when I had the cell to meself. Then you showed up and ruined all my fun. But not anymore, Daybreaker.”

“My. Name. Is. Liam.”

Zayn shrugged, shoulders rising and falling in his bright yellow pajama shirt. Then he let go of Liam’s wrists, only to grab the hem of his pajama shirt and pull it off over his head, tossing it in the corner. 

Liam lowered his arms and rested on his elbows to get a better view. Zayn’s ink was memorizing, it was a blur of blacks and charcoal grays, with splashes of red and pink. There were hearts and wings and wolves and flowers and all types of words, in both Arabic and English. His trance was broken when Zayn, still straddling his waist, pulled his pants down, exposing his half-hard cock to the room. 

“What the fuck-” Liam was cut off by bright overhead light in the cell turning off. It was officially lights-out time. 

The wan light from down the hallway housing the rows of cells shone just enough so that Liam could see the brightness of Zayn’s eyes, and the movement of his hand over his swiftly hardening cock.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Liam hissed. He didn’t know why he was frozen to his spot on the floor, letting a sworn enemy jerk off on top of him. 

Zayn sounded annoyed. “What do you think I’m doing?” His voice was beginning to sound breathy.

“I know what you’re fucking doing. Why you doing it right on top of me?”

Zayn’s hand slowed down a bit, and Liam tried to watch it in the shadows cast by the hall light; it looked like Zayn was twisting his wrist on the upstroke, circling the head before stroking back down. And Liam could feel himself harden despite his best efforts. It was just the proximity, he thought, it didn’t mean that Zayn was actually the cause of his arousal, he was just horny after three weeks in La Prison du Moulin without a stress reliever, is all. 

“Because, Leeyum. Not going to let you cock block me anymore.”

“Since when have I tried to cock block you? I don’t care what you do with your cock, or who you do it to!”

Zayn continued his slow, precise strokes, and Liam felt the weight of him on his stomach, the warmth of where they touched. 

“You may as well, you know.” 

Liam tried to subtly shift so that his hardening cock wasn’t bumping up against Zayn’s ass, but the bright yellow pajama pants didn’t hide much. Just then Zayn moved back, the swell of his ass rubbing against Liam’s definitley hard cock; he tried not to panic and played it cool.

“May as well what?”

“Get off. I can feel you. Feels like you need it.”

Liam tried again to shift, but all he did was rub harder up against Zayn, and he let out a soft moan before he could bite his lip and swallow it down.

“I hate you so much,” Liam groaned. But his body betrayed him, his hips lifting off the ground so he could rub up against Zayn again. 

“That’s fine, I fucking hate you too.” Zayn stopped stroking and stood up. 

“Wha-”

“The floor is filthy, c’mon. Get on the bed.”

“Don’t tell me what to fucking do.” Liam stood up, Zayn watching him in the dark, offering no assistance. Liam turned around and headed over to their bunk, pretending he wasn’t so, so hard from his first arousal in weeks. Prison had put all sexy thoughts out of his mind, sexy cell mate aside, but now it was like the flood gates were open, and he was so hard and desperate to touch himself he didn’t know what to do - he could only hope that Zayn would pass out right after getting off, and then he could do a quick, desperate, and not at all pathetic wank in his bunk. 

He reached up, gripping the top bunk with both hands, ready to hoist himself up, when hands roughly grabbed his hips. Liam drew in a breath when he felt Zayn’s warm voice in his ear again.

“C’mon Liam. Think of this as a business arrangement, yeah? We’ll both be getting something out of it, like, and besides, what happens in Moulin stays in Moulin.”

Liam snorted, then gasped when Zayn let go of his hip with one hand and reached around and grabbed his hard cock, squeezing just this side of too much - but the stimulation was what Liam needed, and he pushed forward into Zayn’s grip.

“There you go,” Zayn whispered into his ear. “Hate me all you want, Daybreaker, but I’ve seen the way you look at me. I can make you feel good, yeah?”

He realized he hadn’t said anything, but he pushed forward again. Zayn let go, then pulled Liam’s pants down, just below the curve of his ass. 

He hissed at the contrast of the cool air of the cell against the heat radiating from his cock, which was fully hard and throbbing. He felt syrupy and slow, like all his senses were being dragged through molasses. 

Zayn pushed up against his back, and he must have pushed his pants down as well, because Liam could feel his hardness, pushing down the middle of his ass, and he tensed, because a reach around was one thing, but if Zayn thought he could just fuck Liam -

Zayn must have sensed his hesitancy, because he whispered “Calm down Daybreaker, not going to doing anything you don’t want to, here make yourself useful.” 

He put his hand in front of Liam’s mouth, and he was confused for a moment before he realized what Zayn was looking for. He opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, remembering the hand Zayn was holding out was the same one he had touched his own cock with, and he shivered. He slowly licked across Zayn’s palm, before carefully swallowing down Zayn’s thumb, and giving it a strong, wet suck, before popping off. He repeated with each of his long fingers, making sure to keep each one enveloped in the wet heat of his mouth until it was nice and slick, before popping off. He could hear Zayn’s hitched little breaths and sighs as he gave each finger a good suck, and he could feel when he started rutting up against Liam, desperate little motions that caused Liam to start pushing back.

“There we go,” Zayn whispered into his ear as he began to stoke Liam off, doing the same deliberate stroke up, then twist motion, before sliding back down and repeating, like he had done on himself.

“Ahh, feels good,” Liam gasped. 

And it did, the stroke of Zayn’s wet palm easing the glide, creating a warm, wet cocoon to fuck up in to. He was wound so tight and it had been so long that Liam didn’t know how long he could hold out. 

“Told you I’d make you feel good,” Zayn breathed, and then he started pumping Liam faster while continuing to press his hard cock against his ass, brushing past his sensitive hole and causing Liam to push back harder. 

“Ah, God. Fuck, yes. Not going to last.”

“Feels good, yeah?”

Liam gasped when Zayn started sucking on his neck. His cock felt so heavy and hot in Zayn’s grip. “Yes, fuck yeah,”

“You really needed this, didn’t you, Daybreaker?”

Liam gripped the bunk bed frame harder and panted, breath coming in gasps, and pushed back against Zayn as he continued to stroke up and twist, and Liam’s excitement was building and building, and his balls tightened up and he felt wild and on the verge of something big. 

He almost reached his peak when Zayn let go and stepped back; Liam felt a chill even though heat still rushed through his body.

“Alright, I’m tired. Calling it a night.”

For the hundredth time that night, Liam said “What the fuck?” 

“Mmm, I’m tired mate. So going to sleep.” 

“You fucking cock tease - “ Before he could control himself, Liam let go of the bed frame, turned around, grabbed Zayn by the shoulders, and marched him to the nearest wall, absently noting that Zayn’s pants were pulled down. When Zayn’s back hit the wall, Liam growled, “Lick,” holding out his own palm.

Zayn’s eyes glittered in the dark. “Make me.” 

“Zayn, fucking lick. Or else.” Liam was reaching his limit, and he was so hard he was light-headed with it. 

“Oh, well, if ‘or else’ is the only option.”

Liam was about to yell, risk of tasering and subsequent humiliation be damned, when Zayn opened his mouth and started licking, delicate little kitten licks, until Liam gripped the shoulder he was still holding onto so hard that Zayn winced, then sped up, licking broad strokes, until Liam was satisfied. Then he reached down and started stroking himself; between his palm and how wet he was from how long he’d been on edge it was going to be quick. 

“Umm.” He could feel Zayn’s eyes watching his hand, which was a quick blur of shadow. “This is nice and all, but not really doing anything for me.” 

Zayn started to reach down to his own leaking cock, but Liam growled again, and pushed him harder into the wall. He gasped out, “Wait your fucking turn.” 

Zayn leaned forward, and dug sharp teeth into Liam’s neck, right over the Vi tattoo, and that flash of pain was all it took, and Liam came all over his own hand, letting out a high pitched whine. “Fuck, fuck.”

“Ok, so glad you’re having a great fucking time, but if you don’t mind-”

Liam didn’t even pause, but reached forward and grabbed Zayn’s length with his hand that was hot and wet with his come - Zayn gasped and pushed into his hand.

“Fucking finally, Daybreaker, fuck. Yes.”

“Feels good, yeah?”

Zayn gasped, pushing forward. “Fuck, yeah, feels so good.”

“You gonna come? You really need it, poor baby. All backed up yeah?” Liam wasn’t stoking slowly or deliberately, like Zayn had touched him, but was fast and rough, trying to get Zayn off as quickly as possible. 

“Yeah, fuck, yes. Need it.” 

Liam leaned forward and licked across the red wolf tattoo, then mouthed across Zayn's collarbone, sucking and biting the delicate skin.

Zayn moaned softly, and his back arched off the wall.

Liam pulled back, never letting up on his quick stroking. "How bad do you need it?"

"Fuck, Daybreaker, I need it."

"Say my name, damnit." Liam stopped stroking.

"Fuck, Leeyum. I need it, fuck ok?" Zayn's voice sounded wrecked, and Liam marveled at how hot and velvety smooth Zayn's cock felt in his rough, calloused hand.

In the shadows Liam could see Zayn’s head tilted back against the wall, mouth open, and chest rising and falling - he wished there was a light in the cell so he could see more clearly, the image of Zayn on the verge of coming burning into his brain. Zayn reached up a hand and twisted his own nipple. He looked like ecstasy, and his mouth opened wider. 

Liam hastily let go and stepped back. “Alright, g’night.”

Zayn didn’t move. “C’mon Liam.”

“Nah, I’m tired. And I already came. And remember when you tripped me and I dropped an entire basket of grapes then had to clean them all up? Yeah, cheers to that. Night mate.”

Liam reached forward, wiping his wet hand across Zayn’s flat stomach, then pulled up his pants and headed to climb up the bunk. Settling down, he turned over, and saw Zayn hadn’t moved from the wall. 

“You coming to bed or what?”

Zayn let out a muffled groan. “You fucking bastard. I fucking hate you.” 

Liam watched Zayn run his hand across his own stomach, where he had been marked with a damp trail of Liam's come, and then he began to beat off, still leaning against the wall. 

Liam heard his muffled groans, and if he hadn’t just come his brains out, he wondered if he could get hard again. A minute later, he heard a quiet, “Oh fuck,” and then there was silence, until he could feel Zayn get into the bottom bunk. 

“Sweet dreams, Zayn,” Liam said cheerfully.

“Go fuck yourself,” was the only reply Liam got, but that was enough, and he fell asleep, feeling better than he had since he’d first arrived at the prison.


	4. The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am updating this fic. Stranger things have happened! If anyone is still here, I hope you enjoy the update. And thank you for the lovely, lovely comments and kudos so far on this one. Get ready for some intrigue!

The next morning, Liam was once again rudely shocked awake by cold water splashed in his face. He didn’t even open his eyes this time, but lay there, feeling the cold wetness run down his face and onto his pillow. He tried to take deep breaths and started counting to ten.

“Morning fucker,” Zayn’s cheery voice was right next to him. 

“Are you going to do this every morning?” 

“Hmm. Probably. And if you thought last night changed anything, you’d be dead wrong.”

Liam opened his eyes and sat up, staring at Zayn, with his bed head and smirk and bright yellow pajama shirt. 

“Why would I think that?”

Zayn shrugged. “Dunno. Not the brightest, you are, Daybreaker, so just because you touched my cock doesn’t make us friends.”

Liam rolled his eyes and pulled himself off the bunk, ignoring the crumpled paper cup that Zayn threw at the side of his head. 

“Just because you touched MY cock doesn’t mean I liked it.”

Zayn laughed, throaty and loud in their small cell. “You begged for it pretty hard last night.”

Liam tried not to blush, and turned towards their shared bureau, pulling on the broken drawer to grab a fresh yellow jumpsuit for the day. “ ‘s what you said - merely a business arrangement, yeah?”

“So then, you want it to happen again?” Zayn sounded sly. 

Liam shrugged as he changed, refusing to turn around to see if Zayn was watching him - but he would bet all the money in the HSBC that his cellmate was checking him out. He finished dressing and turned around. Zayn stood, arms crossed and head tilted to the side, waiting for his answer. 

“Do YOU want it to happen again?” Liam stalled.

“For fuck’s sake ,” Zayn muttered as he stalked over to Liam until he stood right in front of his face. He leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “I told you - while we’re here, what happens in Moulin stays in Moulin. It’s a fucking business arrangement, yeah?” 

Liam listened to the words, repeated back to him. Could he really do this, enter into a business arrangement - well, a sexy arrangement at that - with a Lupus member? If anyone from the gang found out...if Louis found out… it would not end well. 

“You know that in the 80s your gang massacred seven Daybreaker members in cold blood?” Liam hissed.

Zayn shrugged. “In retaliation for your gang burning down our main warehouse - millions of dollars of blow in there. Up in smoke.”

Liam started getting heated. “Well we burned it down because Lupus had attacked -”

“Ok, ok we get it. We both know the fucking history. Like I said, what happens in Moulin stays in Moulin.” Zayn leaned in and whispered, "You in, Daybreaker?”

Liam tried not to shiver, but he couldn’t fight the fact that Zayn had quite the physical impact on his senses. “On two conditions.”

“Two fucking conditions?” Zayn still whispered in his ear. “This I gotta fucking hear.”

“One - you call me Liam, yeah?”

“I get you want to hear me say your name, gets you off, huh?”

Liam ignored him. “And two - no fooling around with anyone else here. I don’t want the fucking clap or some shite.”

Zayn pulled back and looked serious for a moment. “Same to you - the only cock in your mouth will be mine. Unless you’re really flexible?”

He tried not to smile. Zayn was not funny and Liam was not that flexible. “Nobody else, agreed.”

“Oh and Liam?” Zayn leaned forward again, biting gently at his ear lobe. “If you ever leave me hanging like you did last night, I will cut off your dick, yeah?”

And with that he turned away, whistling, and Liam tried not to think too hard about what he had just conspired to and how big of a mistake he was making.

After breakfast Liam found himself outside, in his usual spot in the grape fields, under the hot sun that perpetually shone down on Sark Island.

He wiped his hand across his brow and looked over at Zayn, who was on his knees picking grapes. His buzzed hair had started growing in, and Liam could see the sweat on the back of his neck. He had rolled up the sleeves of his jumpsuit, exposing his wiry arms covered in ink, and his hands moved quickly as he picked the grapes. Zayn hadn’t thrown a single grape at him so far today, which might have been some kind of record, but there was also a guard stationed unusually close by, so the fear of tazing may have won out over his usual desire to torment Liam. It’s not that he enjoyed having grapes thrown at him while he tried to work in the heat, but a part of Liam - a deep, deep down part that he shoved down even further - may have enjoyed the attention Zayn gave him. 

He looked across the vast grape fields to the prison. Moulin was a category “A” prison - but per Jonas it wasn’t as heavily secured as the other type “A” prisons - it didn’t have to be. The natural geography and island location kept anyone from escaping - no prisoner had ever made it off Sark Island alive.

He wondered how much money the Barclay brothers made from the wine that the prisoners labored over. For free, Liam thought bitterly, they were literally doing the labor for free. He remembered Jonas telling him that the Yellow Mill wine label was one of the fastest growing brands in the world, and the two Barclay brothers alone owned 80% of the shares. They were multi-millionaires who owned property and homes and businesses all over the world. 

He looked at the prison, nestled between the old mill the wine took its name from and the observational tower that constantly watched its prisoners. He shook his head. He needed off this island. 

He went to move his basket, which was half full of grapes, and noticed the long tear in the side, where grapes were beginning to fall out.

“Hey,” he waved at the guard. “I need another basket.”

The guard came over and looked at the tear in the basket. He nodded. “See that shed over there?” He pointed to a small shed several fields over. “Replacement baskets are in there - and be fucking quick about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Liam muttered, and with a last glance at Zayn - who had been looking up at him but quickly bent his head back down and kept working - he began the trek over to the shed, ignoring the other prisoners who watched him as he walked by.

When he reached the storage shed he opened the door and did a double take. In the middle of the shed, surrounded by baskets was Louis, his head bent as he carefully applied tape to the side of a basket.

Liam looked around to make sure nobody else was nearby. He didn’t even see a guard in the shed, so he carefully shut the door behind him and turned the lock. 

“Louis, what the fuck mate?” Liam said. 

Louis looked up, a startled look on his face. When he saw Liam his entire expression changed. 

“Did you lock the door?” His voice was sharp.

“Of course.” Liam said, walking over as Louis put down the basket he was repairing. Liam paused, and then pulled in him for a tight hug. Louis was his brother in everything but blood, and the last couple months had been tough. 

“Missed you,” he mumbled into Louis' shoulder, the starch in the cursed yellow jumpsuit causing his face to itch. 

Louis voice was muffled. “Missed you, too - you don’t even know.” 

They pulled back and looked at each for a long moment. Liam looked at the Vi Mortiferum tattoo on the side of Louis' neck, in the same spot and with the same cursive lettering of Liam’s tattoo. All his emotions from the past month bubbled to the surface- planning the robbery, getting caught at the HSBC, taking the plea deal, arriving on the island. 

“What the fuck Louis? How the fuck - why the fuck are you in here? Why did you pretend to not know who I was when I got tazed?”

Louis blinked and stepped back, pushing his short fringe off his forehead. “Uh, well, remember hearing about the art heist a couple months back?”

Liam paused. “Wait - you mean the break in at the British Museum?” 

“Yeah that one. That was me.”

But that didn’t make any sense, Liam thought. “You don’t get put in a category “A” for stealing art unless you murder the guards or summat. Did ya off them?”

Louis snorted. “No, Liam - didn’t take out any guards. I refused to give one of the paintings back. A Goya.”

“A-what-a?”

“A Goya - some Spanish bloke, Goya painted it."

"What's the painting of?" Liam asked. 

"Erhm, hard to explain. Anyway, I’m holding on to it for a … particular buyer, and since I wouldn’t tell them where I’d stashed it they threw me on this fucking cursed island to teach me a lesson.”

Liam was still confused. “Buy why a museum? Did you need money? This wasn’t sanctioned by Daybreak - they think you went rogue - I’m worried what’s going to happen when we got out of here, to be honest with you.”

“Out of here?” Louis’s tone was sharp. “Liam did you - I heard you tried to break into the HSBC - did you - did you fucking get caught on purpose to end up here?” Louis looked furious. “Liam - you absolute fucking idiot. You have no idea what you’ve done.” 

It felt like Liam had been slapped across the face. “Twenty-five years, Lou. Twenty-five fucking years - you want to rot in here, is that it? I couldn’t let my best friend- fuck - you’re like my brother Lou. And I’m supposed to let you throw away your life?” 

Louis’ eyes flashed. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into - you can’t escape from Moulin -"

"Everything ok in here?"

Liam turned to see Zayn standing in the doorway, watching them with amusement. The open, unlocked doorway. "The guard told me to tell you if you don't hurry up you'll lose lunch privileges." 

Liam scowled. "Fuck off - that's against the - the Geneva covenant. They have to feed us."

"Covenant?" Zayn snickered. 

"You said you locked it?" Louis threw his hands up in the air.

"I did lock it!"

Zayn shook his head, looking Louis carefully up and down. He stared at his neck. "Makes sense now. You another Daybreaker?"

Louis stared back, looking at the base of Zayn's throat. "Lupus Ruber," he sneered. "What's it to you?"

Zayn gave a bored, affected glance around the shed. "Makes sense that you're another Daybreaker - this shed doesn't lock. We're in a prison you fucking idiot - they're not going to let a bunch of prisoners be able to lock themselves in a shed and doing something stupid like take a stand."

"Liam, you know this charmer?" Louis stared at Zayn. "Wait didn't you two get tazed together? I helped carry you to Med Bay."

Liam wondered what Louis would think of him if he knew what else he and Zayn had done together. "Uh, my cell mate. Zayn. Zayn, this is Louis."

"My condolences." Louis sat back down and grabbed the basket he had been working on. "Time to get the fuck out, gents. Don't want the guards in here during my nice quiet alone time."

Liam grabbed an empty basket and left the shed without a backwards glance. 

Zayn shut the door and jogged to catch up with him. Liam's mind raced, trying to understand why Louis thought a museum heist was a good idea and how on earth he had ended up here for a non-violent offense, and why he had pretended not to know Liam after he and Zayn had been tazed. 

"So, planning to escape this island with your buddy back there?" 

Liam groaned. "Did you hear our entire conversation?"

Zayn smirked. "Nah, just caught the end. No one's ever escaped off the island, you know." His tone was conversational. "Well, they've never escaped alive." 

"Yeah, so I've heard." Liam saw the guard from his picking spot standing there, arms crossed and glaring at him. He walked faster. 

"Oh, Leeyum." Zayn said in a sing-song tone. "Make sure you get nice and dirty today."

Liam was irritated, thinking about Louis. "What are you talking about?" 

"I have plans for us in the shower later."

He almost tripped over nothing and Zayn laughed as he tried to hide his blush, his body feeling a flash of heat that had nothing to do with the hot sun.

"Get back to work," the guard barked. "I got my eye on you Payne." 

"Great, fucking great." Liam glanced at Zayn, but merely received a wink in return, and he turned his back on Zayn and focused on the grapes, trying not to worry about Louis. 

After a lunch break and more fieldwork, Liam was ready for that shower. He was in a foul mood - Zayn had continued to quietly work, and besides their conversation after leaving the shed, had not so much as spoken another word to him. Then, Zayn had over-filled his basket and couldn't carry it by himself to the main building that held the wine operations and the barrels. Liam had come back from the building after dropping off his own full basket to see Zayn struggling to lift his basket up. 

"Help him!" the guard that had been standing near them all day ordered, patting the tazer strapped to his utility belt, and Liam had set his jaw and helped lift up the other side of the basket and the two slowly made their way over to the building.

"You fucking did this on purpose," Liam growled. "You know how high to fill the basket- you've been doing this longer than I have."

Zayn turned and looked at Liam from across the basket. He smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Of course I did it on purpose. I wanted us to be last in the showers. Do you want the entire block to see you on your knees in front of me?" 

"Why do I have to go first?" Secretly Liam was impressed by Zayn's planning. The lack of privacy in a prison was truly horrifying. 

They arrived at the wine building and set the basket down. Liam stretched his arms above his head, trying to work out the kinds in his back. 

Zayn also stretched, then glared at Liam. "After the teasing shit you pulled last night, I'm going to come first. And that's that." 

"I'm not getting on my knees - those showers are fucking filthy."

"Get on your knees or don't, Daybreaker, I don't care. I'm still coming first."

"I said you have to call me Liam - "

Zayn laughed. "Don't worry Liam, you'll get you chance to come. When I say so."

Liam tried to tamp down on the thrill of anticipation that ran through him; he couldn't decide if the illicit feeling came from the fact that Zayn was very, very off limits or if it was the appeal of Zayn himself, but either way he knew he couldn't stop playing their dangerous game yet - it was only beginning to get interesting.


	5. Slippery When Wet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please mind the tags:  
I added a TW: Rape Mention for this chapter.(not graphic, not involving any main character)  
Also between this and my other WIP ‘A Simple Touch’ trying to up my smut game, lol, so let me know.  
Loving the comments and kudos <333 So motivating :)

When Liam first arrived and was going through check in and booking at Moulin, he was handed a bag from Med Bay containing, among other items, six condoms and a small package of lube. That was when prison suddenly felt very, very real. 

"Why six?" he asked the guard. 

The guard shrugged. "Regulation. Everyone gets six." 

"What if you need more than six?" Liam couldn't help asking. 

"You have to return them - but they gotta be used and put in that bag - in order to get the next six."

Liam had nothing to say to that. 

He quickly learned that La Prison du Moulin’s showers were infamous. 

Yes, prisoners could have sex in their cells, if they were amendable to their chosen cellmate, but it turned out many of them had arrangements with prisoners they were not fortunate enough to be bunking down with. Moulin was a category A on an island: Liam, who had received 10 years for his sentence - not that he planned on staying on the island any longer than 10 weeks - was aware that he probably had one of the shortest sentences in the prison. Most of them had twenty-five to life, and he shouldn't have been surprised by the amount of prisoners that paired up. And many of them paired up in the showers. Liam had gotten used to ignoring any noises he heard while rinsing the shampoo out of his hair - most were very discrete, overall, as it was generally considered bad form otherwise.

The room that housed the showers was large, its ceilings high and industrial with exposed, dripping pipes running the length of the room. The tiles on the floor were a faded pink and the tiles of the shower stalls were a faded, sickly blue-grey. They could hardly be called stalls, Liam thought; there were merely a series of cement block partitions separating each shower head, and completely open to the middle of the room. There was a long, low bench opposite the shower partitions, where prisoners undressed and set their (one) regulation (threadbare and scratchy after a thousand washes) towel and clean jumpsuit down, and then they walked across the middle of the room, bare and exposed, for every prisoner and guard to see. 

Liam had taken a shower almost every day since he’d arrived, and he still couldn’t get used to the lack of privacy. Back home he had been a regular at Repton as well as his strength training gym - he was used to gym showers and lack of privacy. But something about the guards standing there, supervising their every move, gave him the creeps, as well as the general feeling of always being on edge in Moulin; most of the time the threat of violence wasn’t overt, but the undercurrent was always there, just beneath the surface, ready to rise and lash out at the slightest provocation. 

By the time he and Zayn had returned to their cell, grabbed clean clothes, and reached the showers, the last stragglers were finishing up, toweling off and getting dressed. There was only one guard stationed at the entrance. Zayn slowed his stride, and Liam watched as his hand reached out and quickly tucked something into the guards hand. The guard nodded, Zayn nodded back, and Liam tried to pretend he hadn’t actually seen that transaction transpire. They grabbed a towel each and headed to the long bench. 

Liam hated picking grapes all day, and what it did to his back, but he’d rather be outside in fresh air with a view of the sun then in the prison basement, which housed the huge washer and dryers. Touching the other prisoners towels, clothes and bedding all day while waiting on the machines to run sounded like a special kind of torture. 

Even though the showers were emptying out and there were plenty of available partitions open, Liam set his clothes down next to Zayn; out of the corner of his eye he could see Zayn smirk as they both undressed. Avoiding eye contact, Liam took the shower head next to the one Zayn chose - he chose the one at the very end of the row, the farthest away from the doors and the guard. - they were only separated by a single partition now.

Since he was on the same schedule and same work duty as Zayn, they often showered at the same time - but today felt different. The air was charged with anticipation, and Liam had to make a conscious effort to pretend Zayn wasn’t naked, one cement partition block the only thing separating them.

Liam stood under the water, putting his head under the spray and tried to focus on the temperature (tepid) and water pressure (fair), and not the events of the day. Zayn’s face suddenly appeared from around the partition. He slowly looked Liam up and down. Liam tried not to feel self-conscious - he was not ashamed of his body, he was in excellent shape and besides, Zayn had literally already held his cock in hand, and he definitely had no shortcomings in that department - but something about Zayn's intense gaze made Liam feel a rush of heat. 

“All clear. Come put all those muscles to use and help me wash my back, yeah?” And with that he disappeared back behind the partition. 

Liam snorted. His back. Sure. Whatever. He cautiously peeked around the partition, looking across the room. Everyone had left, even the guard, who Zayn may or may not have paid off, and the doors to the shower room were closed. 

They were alone. 

He stepped carefully around the partition into the other last stall in the row and almost forgot how to breathe. Zayn stood with his back to him, facing the spray, completely naked. Liam was not prepared for all that smooth skin. He had caught glimpses of course, between sharing a cell and a toilet and using the showers at the same time (to say nothing of the view he had gotten last night, Zayn shirtless and jerking off on his stomach before the lights were shut off, and then the shadowy views as he leaned against their cell wall - so, so close to coming undone) but this was something different altogether. 

Liam looked at that elegant neck, the long lines of his back and then lower. He shook his head. This was a business arrangement. Two people getting each other off. Making the best of a bad situation. 

“I think you dropped the soap, mate." Liam giggled at his own joke. 

Zayn turned his head, eyebrows down, looking annoyed. "Not funny."

"Eh - it's a little funny." Liam had been waiting to use that one, in all honesty. 

Zayn's voice was ice cold when he said - "Not fucking funny when you've heard the guy in the stall next to you try to force himself on somebody." 

Liam held up his hands. "My bad. Honestly didn't mean anything by it." He hesitated, then stepped closer. "Do you want me to actually wash your back?"

At that Zayn's cold look thawed a little. He handed Liam the soap and turned around. "Have at it."

Liam slowly reached out and gripped Zayn's shoulder - he tensed for a moment, then relaxed under Liam's hand. The soap wasn't the prison issued, Zayn must have bought it in the canteen. 

As he began to run the soap down Zayn's back - over the bird tattooed on his neck, the tree in the middle of his back, the castle that covered his lower back - he wondered about Zayn's past. Was it like his own? Raised in an orphanage, growing up lonely until Louis came into the picture. Or was Zayn raised in a happy family? And somewhere along the way fell into the gang life. He wondered why Zayn chose Lupus. He and Louis had been recruited by the Daybreakers, and now they were like family. But what if a different gang had come along and rescued them from orphanage life. 

"Whatcha thinkin’ 'bout Daybreaker?" Zayn's voice echoed in the stall. 

"Uh -" Liam didn't voice any of his actual thoughts. "Is this your first time in prison?"

Zayn shifted under Liam's grip, and he started running the soap over his shoulders and down his arms. 

"Been in jail, never been in prison before. You?"

"First time. Did - did you actually see someone get raped - er, forced in here?"

Zayn was quiet for a minute, lifting his arms so he could wash underneath. Then Liam carefully reached around, washing his collarbones and then his chest. He stepped closer, so he could have a better angle, and tried not to press up against Zayn; all that slippery skin under his hands was starting to get him worked up.

“Me third day here - second time using the showers -the guy in the stall next to me he - he had forced someone to come in with him. I didn’t realize until I heard the other guy start to cry and beg. He kept saying - no, no don’t, don’t.” 

Liam stopped washing and wrapped his arms around Zayn.

Zayn let out a big sigh and seemed to shake himself. “I got the guard, he broke it up - tazed the guy - before he could actually do it - but, like, that’s when I realized this place is no joke.”

Liam held Zayn for another moment, marveling that he held (was comforting?) a Lupus member in his very own arms. He wondered again about Zayn’s past. 

“I realized this place was no joke when they only gave me six condoms and said I had to return ‘em used in order to get six more.”

Zayn barked out a laugh, shaking in Liam’s arms, breaking the tension. “Well - if you combine your stash with someone you get twelve condoms - double the fucking.”

It was at that point that Liam realized he had fully pressed up against Zayn while he held him - he was also half hard, and subtly rubbing against the back of his thigh. 

“Double the fucking… I like that.” Liam let go of Zayn, and still holding the soap, slowly knelt down. He ran the soap over the slight curve of Zayn’s ass then down the back of his legs, down his calf, and back up again, then repeating the other side. He took his fingers, soaped them up, grabbed a handful of Zayn’s ass, then slowly ran his finger down Zayn’s lower back, and then further, sliding down between his ass until he gently circled his rim.

Zayn let out a small gasp, heard over the fall of the water, and Liam smiled and pressed down, applying more pressure, his finger slick with soap, but not breaching the tight muscle. He circled faster, then slowed down, exploring and playing while Zayn tried to muffle his gasps above him. 

He slowly slid his finger in; the exquisite heat causing his cock to swell even further. He pulled out, then slowly pushed back in, picking up speed.

“Fuck, fuck,” Zayn muttered, back tensing and arching, and Liam felt a thrill that he was affecting his cell mate in the most intimate way. 

“Nice and tight back here,” Liam said casually. “Think you need to loosen up a bit.”

Zayn snorted, twisting his head to look back at Liam. “Think you’re the man for the job, Daybreaker?”

Liam didn’t usually rim anyone outside an exclusive partner, but something about Zayn made him want to break all the rules and boundaries set up in his life. 

“Actually, yeah. Nothing but rave reviews for me.”

“Prove it then.”

Liam never backed down from a challenge, and wanting to see Zayn come undone again was the exact challenge he wanted right now. He set down the soap and carefully put his knees down on the tile, trying not to wince. He was going to have to pull out all the stops to make this quick, yet memorable - he wasn’t sure how long he could take kneeling on the unforgiving tile. 

Zayn shifted, resting his hands on the wall and arching his back, his ass sticking out. Liam leaned forward, gripped his hips, then ran his hands over his cheeks, before parting them with his thumbs.

Zayn groaned softly. “Stop fucking teasing and start making me feel good.”

“Oh, baby, I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.” And feeling reckless, Liam leaned forward, licking a wet stripe right over the fluttering hole.

Zayn shuddered. “Fuck, just like that.”

Liam pulled back, hands kneading Zayn’s ass. “Only one rule. You can’t touch yourself until I say so. “

“Fine whatever, just fucking get on with it.”

“If you say so.” Liam leaned in again and licked firmly, feeling Zayn twitch underneath the grip of his hands, and then he didn’t stop. He slowly licked, gradually increasing in speed and pressure, up and down, and then gently sucked right on the hottest part of him. 

“God, fuck,” Zayn gasped.

Liam looked up to see his head bowed, hands pressed flat against the wall, water trailing down his sleek back, and that only encouraged him to suck harder, feeling Zayn slowly relax and open up.

Zayn let out a steady whining noise, and Liam spread his cheeks further apart and sucked, then gently pulled on the delicate skin of his rim.

“Uh - , fuck,” Zayn moaned, and Liam pulled a little bit more. “‘ ‘s too much, too much.”

Liam let go and pulled back. “Too much already? Wow, even for a Lupus member you’re weak.” 

“Fuck off.” Zayn sounded weak and breathy, and Liam chuckled.

“Remember, can’t touch yourself until I say so.”

“Stop talking, Daybreaker, and put that fucking mouth to good use.”

Liam pulled back, using a firm hand to smack Zayn’s ass. He enjoyed the sight so much he did with the other hand. “Now, now, is that any way to talk to the person who’s making you feel so good?”

He started licking with a purpose, getting more and more excited and harder the longer he licked while hearing Zayn start to lose it above him, letting out a litany of low groans and curses. Liam plunged his tongue inside that tight heat, caressing his entrance, pulling him apart and going as deep as he could.

“Fuck, fuck - need to come. Need to come, god,” Zayn begged, pushing his ass back further, arching his back even higher, and this was everything Liam wanted - he wanted to be in control, to see Zayn absolutely lose it, with Liam’s tongue deep in him, depending on him for all his pleasure. 

He ignored him, and pressed a finger in alongside his tongue, pushing in and out, feeling the heat and slickness as he continued to lick and suck until Zayn was sobbing. He had never felt so hard and turned on, but he was so focused on getting his cellmate off first that he couldn’t stop now. 

“Fuck, fuck, please, Daybreaker - fucker, let me come.” 

Liam pulled back, then slowly stood up, ignoring the throbbing in his knees.

“I’ll let you come if you say my name.” He tugged on Zayn’s arm, and then spun him around, taking care to hold him up on the slippery tile. They were both soaking wet and the water was starting to lose its warmth but Liam felt so hot he barely noticed. 

“I want you to say my name when you come, can you do that for me?” 

Zayn looked up, eyelashes wet and eyes wide, his mouth open. “Yeah, yes, fuck, Liam, let me come.”

Liam pushed him until his back hit the wall, and then he knelt down and took Zayn’s hard, leaking cock in hand, admiring the swollen head and flushed color, taking a deep breath before swallowing him all the way down without hesitation.

“Fuck, Liam - Liam. I’m going to come.” Zayn’s voice was husky and he tried to tap Liam on the shoulder, but he just tightened his lips and stretched his jaw and went up and down, feeling the heavy weight on his tongue. He used his free hand to start stroking himself, unable to hold off any longer. 

“Liam, Leeyum, fuck, fuuuck,” and with a last drawn out moan, Zayn arched off the wall and came down Liam’s throat, hot and thick; Liam swallowed without thinking as he sped up his strokes, his cock throbbing; he groaned, the sound muffled with his mouth full, and he came hard all over Zayn’s legs and the shower floor. 

Zayn slowly started to slide down the wall; Liam pulled off his softening cock, eyes watering and gasping for breath, helping pull Zayn down into a sitting position. They both sat there for a moment, catching their breath. 

"We, uh, didn't use a condom, sorry." Zayn avoided eye-contact.

Liam shrugged. "Too late now. Besides, that leaves twelve times we can use them in the future." 

Zayn gave him a long, heated look. "Or we could get tested in Med Bay. If we both come out clean..."

Liam met his gaze. "Or we could do that."

Zayn smirked, then struggled to his feet. He was still naked and wet and glistening. "Not bad, for a Daybreaker and all, but next time, I'm in charge."

Liam shivered and his cock twitched, despite having just come his brains out. There was going to be a next time with Zayn. The business arrangement was in full swing - he had to be careful not to let it distract him from the mission - he was here for Louis, and he couldn't forget that, no matter how distracting his cell mate was turning out to be.


	6. All the World's a Stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to follow along! Any ideas what Niall is up to? Or what Louis is hiding from Liam? Or how Harry fits into it all? The plot is going to chug right along - thank you as always for the comments and kudos - it's been really good to be writing again - much love!!
> 
> NOTE: a character has blood drawn for a medical test, and the needle is mentioned. (not graphic)

“Interesting. Hmm. Very interesting.” 

Liam watched with narrowed eyes as Doctor Horan - “I said you can call me Niall, Liam” - tapped the end of a syringe, getting ready to administer a blood test. He’d gone to Med Bay to request a full sexual health test. Niall had frowned and said the prison didn’t offer that as part of their standard health services for inmates. Liam had handed him a couple folded notes, per Zayn’s instructions (when Lam said he didn’t have any money on himself, Zayn had shook his head and muttered about “fucking idiot Daybrekers not being able to survive a day in prison,” but had handed him some money - and where did Zayn keep getting all this cash to bribe guards and prison doctors anyway, Liam wondered), and then Niall had abruptly changed his tune and welcomed him into the small office. Liam tried not to appear too eager, but after the previous day's encounter in the Moulin showers, he wanted a clear test result as soon as possible. 

He sat on the Med Bay bed - it was a pleasant change to be in the room and not recovering from being tasered, and it was nice to not be handcuffed to a chair or the rails of the bed. It gave him the illusion of freedom. 

“What’s interesting?” Liam turned his head and looked away as he felt a prick in the crook of his inner left elbow. He tried not to wince; fucking needles were the worst. Tattoos didn’t bother him, but he found the longer needles doctors used very unpleasant . 

“Malik’s your cellmate, yeah?”

Liam grunted. “What about it?” 

“All done, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Niall finished drawing blood, and put the sample in a sealed bag. He handed Liam a small cup. “Bathroom's through that door, please urinate in the cup, and that will be the end of what's needed for a full screening.”

Liam took the cup and stood up. “What about Zayn?”

Niall looked at him, eyebrow quirked. “Oh, interesting he was in here first thing this morning requesting this exact test. He missed breakfast I believe. And here you are on - your lunch hour, no less - needing the same test. Interesting is all.”

Liam scowled. He already knew this because Zayn hadn’t been at breakfast. Normally they spent every meal together. Zayn had specifically ordered him to get tested at lunch after handing him the bribe money this morning.

What he and Zayn got up to in their own time was no one's business but their own. If the nosey doctor wanted to draw conclusions, no matter how accurate, he wasn’t going to give him any confirmation. “Never heard of doctor and patient confidentiality?”

Niall smiled. His bright blue eyes gave the illusion of warmth, but Liam had a feeling that behind the friendly exterior some serious calculations and assessments were happening. The doctor couldn’t be trusted. “No confidentiality in Moulin, you should know that by now. Besides, I told you on your first day here - I make it my business to know everything that goes on here.”

“Now that is interesting.” Liam turned around and headed into the bathroom. Knowing he might have to give a sample, he’d held off from using the bathroom the last several hours and now he was about to explode. He sighed in relief as he carefully aimed into the cup. He knew he was clean, and he really, really hoped Zayn was clean. Not having to deal with the humiliation of returning used condoms to receive new ones was more than worth the cost of the doctor’s snide remarks. 

He finished, twisting the cap on, and returned to the main room and gingerly set it down on the counter, next to a small doctor’s kit that laid open. He quickly grabbed a small scalpel from the kit and tucked it into the rolled up sleeve of his jumpsuit. 

Niall turned around from where he had been labeling Liam’s blood sample. “Alright, if you come back after dinner I’ll have the results of your tests. Be careful out there Liam.”

“I’ll try.” The doctor was seriously giving him warning vibes. He shook his head and opened the door to leave. On the other side of the door was Zayn, eyes wide and hand raised as if about to knock.

Liam realized he must be here for his test results. Apparently he wasn’t the only one eager for his results. He gave Zayn his best smirk. “Come here often?” 

Zayn glared and elbowed him in the side as he walked by. “Watch where you’re going Daybreaker!”

Liam tried not to roll his eyes. Niall wasn’t a fool, he knew what was up, and the tough guy posturing was getting harder to believe when he had literally hugged Zayn in the showers as he recounted his tale of witnessing inmate on inmate sexual violence. But then again, his cellmate did pack a mean punch and was not to be trifled with. 

“Fuck off,” he called out half-heartedly, but kept walking. He had a couple minutes to grab lunch before heading back out to the fields. 

After scarfing down the disgusting food posing as lunch in record time, Liam headed out to the fields. It was another beautiful, picturesque day on the island of Sark; the sky blue and the endless field of grapes lush and green, if one ignored the bright splashes of jarring yellow of the inmates tucked in amongst the green, not to mention the heavily armed guards sprinkled throughout. What a waste, he thought.

He looked back at the prison and tried to imagine the view if the prison had never been built, and the mill and observation tower that flanked the prison had been left all alone - two ancient structures left to guard the island. Now the view was ruined by the squat brown prison right in the middle, with its fake ramparts and very real barred windows. Prisoners at Moulin talked about the benefits of staying on the island compared to a cement block in the middle of a faceless city, but Liam wasn’t so sure. Sark was an island paradise twisted into a prison - a taste of freedom with no actual freedom. 

After he reported for check in to the main building, he was given a basket and directed back out to a new field. While walking, he carefully slid out the small scalpel he had tucked into the folds of his rolled up sleeve, and, glancing around to make sure no one paid attention to him, he slashed a cut into the side of the basket, then tucked the scalpel back into its hiding spot. It could come in handy later.

He showed the guard (a different one, luckily, then the previous day) the cut in the basket and the guard waved him in the general direction of the shed. He walked towards the now familiar storage shed again, idly wondering where Zayn was, as he hadn’t been seen at check-in for the afternoon field shift. 

He shifted the basket from one hand to another as he walked the fields, trying not to dwell on what Zayn’s test results had been. He would find out soon enough, he supposed. 

When he opened the door to the shed, expecting to find Louis or to find it empty, he instead saw a curly haired prisoner, and even more surprising, he saw Zayn, head bent close to the other inmate’s ear, whispering while he gestured with both hands. Liam remembered - this was the prisoner who had helped carry him to Med Bay several weeks back. His hair was still too long for regulation, hanging well past his ears.

He had seen Zayn avoid pretty much all other prisoners - which, he thought from the beginning, was odd that the two of them were already cell mates and on the same work and meal shifts, yet Zayn had generally stuck to his side through the day and sat next to him at every meal - today had been the first time since his arrival that they hadn’t eaten their meals together. 

The prisoner looked frustrated but loudly cleared his throat when Liam entered, and Zayn abruptly turned and stopped talking. 

“Do you mind, Daybreaker? Trying to have a private conversation here.” 

“Nope, don’t mind at all. Didn’t know I was interruptin’ afternoon tea. I’m Liam by the way,” he directed towards the prisoner.

“I know who you are. I’m Harry.”

Liam straightened up. “How do you know who I am?”

“Because -” 

“Because,” Zayn interrupted, scowling, “I was saying what a wanker my cellmate is and how I wish I could get a transfer.” 

“That’s funny,” Liam said, frowning, “because I just put a request in for a transfer because MY cellmate is a fucking knob and -”

“Alright ,” Harry stood up. “I see you two -” he looked back and forth between the two, eyes wide, “ - have some things to work out. Zayn, see you later. Liam, nice to meet you.” He hastily left the shed without a backwards glance. 

Liam watched him go. “Nice to meet you? Who is this guy? What is he even in for?”

“Attempted murder. Of a diplomat.” 

Zayn didn’t look like he was joking but Liam found it hard to believe the polite and nervous Harry could be capable of such a thing. Of course, appearances could be deceiving - some of the most violent men he had met had an unassuming demeanor. Still waters run fucking deep, and all that shite. That reminded him.

“You never told me - you said you were in here for arson - what’d you try and burn down?”

Liam had been wanting to ask for weeks. 

“The Globe.”

Liam paused. “As in - the fucking Globe Theater?” He had expected it to be somewhere along the lines of a rival gangs warehouse or headquarters. Or really anything but an old theater. 

“Yeah, the Globe.” 

“But why?”

“Why not?” Zayn brushed him off with an impatient wave of his hand. “Doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Liam didn’t agree, but before he could make his opinion known, Zayn walked up to him, right into his space, and smirked. 

“You should know I tested clean. Better not fucking ruin it for both of us.”

Liam looked at him - he wondered how long it had taken Zayn to perfect that sultry look through his long lashes. He tried to ignore the tightening in his stomach. It wasn’t a wise decision to get excited in their jump suits - they hid very little. 

“Well you should know - I know I’ll test clean.”

Zayn smiled, all teeth. “Oh, Leeyum, always so confident. What makes you so sure?” 

Liam leaned in, until their noses were very, very close. “Because I haven’t been with anyone since my last test.” He leaned back for a second. “It was uh - a couple months before I got here.”

Zayn’s pupils dilated and he slowly blinked. “You telling the truth?”

He leaned back in, staring at Zayn’s lower lip. “I’m a man of my word. It’s all we have, you know. You really test clean?”

Zayn looked serious. “Same goes for me - I’m a man of my word. And yeah, I tested clean.” He licked his lips. “Why waste anymore time, yeah?”

Liam barely had time to react before Zayn reached forward and yanked on either side of his jumpsuit, pulling open all the snaps down until the waistband. Then he tried to push the jumpsuit off Liam’s shoulders.

“Wait, wait,” Liam said, pulling back his arm that had the scalpel tucked into the rolled up sleeve. He carefully pulled out the scalpel and knelt down, tucking it into the side of his sock and careful to tug his pant leg back down to cover it up. 

Zayn raised an eyebrow. 

“To cut a hole in the basket,” he explained. 

Zayn grinned. “Maybe you are more than muscles, Daybreaker. Might have some brains in there after all.” 

Liam wanted to punch a wall. “Will you shut the fuck up and -”

Zayn kissed him, and Liam froze. He had licked his lips and licked his neck, but Zayn had never kissed him, and he had never kissed Zayn. This was a business arrangement, after all - and then Liam stopped worrying and kissed Zayn back. 

He could feel fingers grip the back of his neck, and then Zayn bit his lower lip and he groaned, opening his mouth, and he could feel his warm tongue run along his teeth and he groaned again in the back of his throat. He let go. Zayn explored his mouth and Liam forgot about everything but the warm body pressed up against his. 

"Been dreamin' about that thick cock of yours," Zayn breathed hotly. "Want to taste it."

"Fuck - bet you'll look so good with it in your mouth." Liam tried not to rub up against Zayn like an overeager teenager, but he couldn't help it; there was something about the man that drove him crazy and turned him on so much he couldn't stand it. 

The kissing grew more frantic, and Liam felt overheated. He struggled to pull his open jumpsuit off his shoulders, and then he could feel Zayn’s hands run along his chest, scratching lightly, and then run over his shoulders and then down his arms, finally pushing the jumpsuit the rest of the way off.

Standing there in nothing but pants in the middle of the storage shed, Zayn's eager mouth all over him, Liam suddenly came to his senses. He pulled back, but didn't let go of Zayn's waist, which he had been squeezing through his jumpsuit.

"We shouldn't be doing this here -"

"You're right. You really shouldn't be doing this here. Or anywhere for that matter. Really Liam, a member of Lupus Ruber? Thought you of all people would be too sensible for that." 

Louis stood in the open doorway, arms crossed, face a mask. Liam tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. Oh shit, he thought. Shit, shit. shit.


	7. Falling Down and Falling Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for continuing to follow along. I LOVE every comment and kudo with all my heart :) The plot thickens.

Liam’s thoughts were on a loop. The loop went something like - FUCK. Oh shit. Shit. Louis just saw him. And Zayn. Why was he still holding on to Zayn? He abruptly let go of Zayn’s waist. FUCK.

“It’s not - uh - what it looks like?” Liam said weakly. He tried to pull up his jumpsuit but the sleeves were tangled and he was sweating and it was very, very awkward. 

Zayn snorted and Liam glared at him. Easy for him; Zayn was fully dressed and wore his customary smirk. Liam struggled with his sleeves, finally pulling them up and hastily pushing the snaps together until he was dressed. He was flushed and sweating and the jumpsuit was scratchy but he no longer felt so exposed. 

“Not what it looks like. Really Liam? So it’s not you snogging your cellmate while you’re half naked? Your cellmate, who, might I remind you, is a member of Lupus Ruber?” 

Louis’ face was usually an open book - his emotions and moods clear in the movement of his eyebrows and the shape of his mouth. But looking at his best friend's face, Liam realized for the first time he couldn’t read Louis. And that terrified him. And confused him. Louis didn’t look furious, but curiously blank. 

Zayn cleared his throat. “ ‘s a business arrangement. Nothing more. I’m using Liam for his muscles like, nothing else.”

Liam felt his temper flare to the surface. “He’s right, you know. I’m only using him for his mouth. Sucks a mean dick, that one.”

Zayn’s eyes flashed and his mouth thinned. “You’re the one with cock sucking lips, mate, I haven't even blown you -”

“Alright, shut the fuck up, the both of ya. Please.” Louis looked exasperated. “I don’t want to know what you get up to in your free time. Especially if it involves your dicks.” He now looked serious. “Be careful Liam, yeah?”

Liam’s mouth was open in surprise. He thought at the very least Louis would threaten to shank Zayn, or insist Liam be the one to do the shanking. Louis was loyal to the bitter end - he took his gang oath deadly serious. What had gotten into him to let Liam off this easy?

“Uh, yeah. Yup. We’re being careful. Got tested and everything -”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Gross. Not what I meant. But good for you. Um. I saw Harry walk outta here - you two scare him off with your disgusting PDA?”

“Something like that,” Liam mumbled. “Wait. You know Harry?”

Louis looked to the left and didn’t make direct eye contact. “Talked to him once or twice. Seems like a nice bloke.” 

“Harry IS a nice bloke.” Zayn’s voice was cold. “So why don’t you leave him alone? Stop trying to recruit him into your gang of bloody idiots.” 

Liam glanced at Zayn. His eyes were narrowed and he was giving Louis a death stare. Liam turned his head. Louis was glaring right back, eyes icey and furious. He didn’t understand what kind of standoff was happening right now but it wasn’t good. 

Louis sneered. “I would never recruit someone like Harry. So why don’t YOU stop trying to get him to join your fucking gang of cunts?” 

He stepped forward until he was close to Zayn, and the two continued to glare daggers until Liam stepped in between them, hands held out in his most placating manner. 

“Neither of you are recruiting Harry, yeah?”

They both nodded, but didn’t take their eyes off each other. Liam sighed. “So lay off the pissing contest yeah? Christ, you would think you were both fighting for his hand or summat.”

Louis took a step back. “Just don’t want to see another person throw their life away to Lupus, is all.” 

“Fuck you-” Zayn stepped forward but Liam quickly grabbed him around the shoulders to hold him back, and to his surprise he stopped moving.

“What the FUCK are your pieces of shit doing?” 

Oh shit, Liam thought for the hundredth time in the past several minutes. Three guards stood in the doorway. 

“You, let go of him now! No touching!” A guard barked at Liam. 

Liam once again quickly let go of Zayn.

The guards rushed forward, knocking over baskets as they infiltrated the small shed. 

Liam once again said, “It’s not what it looks like!” 

And, once again, he was tasered even though he had let go and stepped away from Zayn. On his way to the ground, limbs shaking uncontrollably and spine bending, his forehead grazed the corner of a table that held some of the damaged baskets, and a moment later he saw black. 

He woke up, on top of the Med Bay bed, handcuffed to the rails, and left for the doctor to find him. Zayn and Louis had escaped being tazed, which Liam found really fucking unfair. His body ached, but the side of his forehead that had connected with the table hurt worse. 

“Liam, long time no see!” Niall said brightly. “If I didn’t know any better, now you’re just finding excuses to come see me. Should I be flattered?”

Liam tried to say, “Fuck you,” but as he didn’t have full control of his facilities yet and he could literally feel the blood drying on his face, making everything stiff, he merely grunted. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up so you have a clean bill of health.” Niall leaned forward, and winked at Liam. “Not that you already didn’t have a clean bill of health.” He winked again.

Liam groaned. He took the hint though. He had tested clean, as he knew he would.

When he finally returned to his cell sometime later, he was surprised to see Zayn waiting for him. The guard let him in and locked the door behind him, and Zayn stood up from where he sat on the bottom bunk.

“You missed dinner, Daybreaker. How’s the head? Concussion?” 

Liam reached up, fingers gingerly running along the bandage. He shrugged. “Nah, just a gash. I’ve had worse.”

“You would be the martyr type. Well you look like a right idiot with that bandage.” 

He didn’t have the energy to argue back. Niall had explained he didn’t have a concussion, and while the cut was shallow and didn’t need stitches, it was still a head laceration and he had lost a fair amount of blood. He shrugged and took off his jumpsuit, tossing it in the corner and not caring that he was naked in front of Zayn. He didn't have the energy to put on his sleep clothes, so he headed towards his bunk and slowly, painfully, hoisted himself up. 

Zayn walked over next to the bunk, brows furrowed. “You sure you don’t have a concussion? Should you be sleeping?”

Liam finally rolled onto his bunk. “Doc said no concussion. But between the blood loss and getting tazed ‘m tired. Going to sleep.”

“Whatever. Fuck if I care.” Zayn’s voice didn’t sound right though, and Liam’s last thought before he drifted off was what was so special about Harry that had caused the standoff earlier. He hardly seemed like an ideal gang recruitee. 

Liam woke up to someone shaking his shoulder. He had been dreaming, and the dream was strange. A large basket chased him across an empty field. Was the basket holding a knife? Liam ran and ran, but he couldn’t lose the basket that was tight on his heels.

Zayn shook his shoulder. 

“Wake up Liam,” he hissed. “Wake up.”

Liam squinted in the deep shadows in the cell, the only light coming from down the hall, shining in faint streaks through the thick iron bars of their cell door. 

“Hmm? Whazzit.” His head was throbbing. “Zayn?”

“Shh, keep it the fuck down. Don’t want the guards to hear us. Take this.” 

Liam propped himself up on an elbow. Zayn held a paper cup in one hand and two pills in the palm of his other hand.

“Trying to poison me, is that what it’s come to?” 

Even in the dark, Liam could see Zayn rolling his eyes. “Please. If I wanted to off you, poisoning would be a pussy way to do it. They’re for your head.”

“How’d you get painkillers in here?” 

Niall had given him painkillers in Med Bay, but he wasn’t given any to take with him.

Zayn sounded smug. “I have my ways.”

Liam took the pills. He didn’t think Zayn was the type to use poison as his method of killing either. 

He swallowed the water and laid back down, ready to go back to sleep and feeling a wave of gratitude for Zayn’s unexpected thoughtfulness, but then Zayn started climbing up to the top bunk.

“Zayn what the fuck-”

“What part of shut the fuck up don’t you understand?”

“You’re gonna break the goddamn bed - “

“Don’t be stupid. These things are made of steel.”

Liam grunted as Zayn’s bony elbows kept hitting his side, until he was all the way on the top bunk, awkwardly settling down between his legs. He realized he had never put on his sleep clothes and was completely exposed. 

“What are you doing?”

Zayn blinked slowly in the half dark. Liam thought he was attempting to look innocent; he looked anything but. 

“Gonna make you forget ‘bout that head injury.” 

He leaned forward, hands on Liam’s knees, and slowly started rubbing up and down his thighs, fingers firm as he kneaded the muscles. 

“Feel good?” Zayn whispered, voice low.

Liam tried not to groan. It felt so good, Zayn’s nimble fingers on his legs, digging into the tender muscles. All the field work meant Liam’s legs and back were usually tense and sore after spending hours in the fields picking grapes and hauling baskets. 

Zayn’s hands slid higher until they reached the top of his thighs; Liam couldn’t help but spread his legs wider.

“There we go, good boy,” Zayn’s voice was velvet and Liam closed his eyes and forgot about his aching head as his stomach tensed in anticipation as Zayn’s hands slid to his inner thighs, touching the sensitive skin and squeezing in a slow, syrupy rhythm. 

The long day and the pain melted away, and Liam felt himself get hard under Zayn’s careful ministrations and magic fingers. His cock lay on his stomach, and he squirmed as he could feel himself swell and get excited. He was starting to get wet at the tip. He wanted to open his eyes to watch, but he also wanted to soak in the moment for as long as possible. 

Zayn stopped moving his hands and Liam let out a small whine before he could help it.

He could hear Zayn chuckle. “Patience Daybreaker. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” 

His hands started moving again, and Liam felt a warm breath on the head of his cock, and then he bit his lip to hold back a moan as he felt Zayn delicately lick under the head, and then lick along the slit. 

Liam was fully hard, and he opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch the show, not caring if that would make him come even faster than he was going to. 

Zayn pulled off and looked up as Liam met his eyes. The dark shadows in the cell made his eyes look black. He slowly ran his tongue along his lips, wetting them, and Liam felt his cock twitch.

Zayn took the swollen head into his mouth and started sucking.

"Fuck, feels good," Liam sighed, spreading his legs even further.

Zayn continued to suck, mouth warm and tight, and Liam let out a gasp when Zayn sucked down and down until he was down to the base.

"God, fuck Zayn. Your mouth. 's good as I imagined it would be."

Zayn was on his knees, bent forward with his ass in the air, hands gripping Liam’s thighs and mouth wrapped around his cock, lips stretched wet and shiny. 

Liam felt his back arch in pleasure as Zayn swallowed, and then he was bobbing up and down, picking up speed, and his hand wrapped around the base of Liam's cock as he continued to swallow him all the way down.

He tried to muffle his moans, he really did, but the pressure and glide of Zayn's mouth and the firm strokes of his hand caused Liam's abs to tighten, and he stretched his legs out and lifted his hips.

"God, Zayn, fuck. Fuck gonna come." Liam reached forward to run his hand over the top of Zayn's head, the hair soft and fuzzy but too short to grip. He grasped the back of his neck, not pushing down, but feeling the movement and the taut tendons in his neck. 

His cock pulsed and then he arched again, coming hard, and Zayn never stopped moving and swallowing.

"Fuck, 'm sensitive," Liam gently pulled on Zayn's neck and Zayn immediately released his cock, which was sensitive and spent. 

Liam fell back against the pillows. The painkillers had kicked in, and between his head feeling fuzzy and his intense orgasm, he was ready to fall back asleep.

"Feel better?" Zayn asked. 

He sounded smug, but Liam didn't want to give him too much credit.

"Eh, a bit. Helped take my mind off things." 

Liam closed his eyes again. As he drifted off he remembered what Zayn had said earlier in the shed.

"You really think I have cock-sucking lips?"

He heard Zayn giggle and felt a gentle finger tracing along his lower lip, and then he succumbed to a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are life, thank you!!


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